Twelve Shades of Blue
by lone astronomer
Summary: A nice piece of Ron/Hermione fluff. Ron talks to Herm about the night of the Yule Ball, among other things. Very fluffy, very cute. If only there was a


Twelve Different Shades of Blue

Author's note: This originally stemmed from one of my own expressions, but has turned into something I don't even recognize anymore. And I'm rather fond of it, actually. 

Disclaimer: Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, et al, property of J. K. Rowling, Scholastic, etc. No infringement is intended.

Summary: Ron looks back on/speaks about/writes to Herm about the way he acted the night of the Yule Ball.

Ship: R/H, duh. ^_^ Is there anything else?

Category: errr… I'd say "Romantic comedy" if there was one…

I guess I didn't notice when the changes started. I mean, I'm Ron Weasley, and let's face it, I wasn't the most observant guy in the world back then. Maybe I didn't even _want_ to see what was going on. I don't know. I think I like it better not knowing.

I want to apologize for the way I acted. Okay, I admit that I didn't, then; heck, I'm still not thrilled about it, but- well, you know what I mean. I'm sorry. I was sorry from the moment I said it. Well, what do you know. The world didn't end, after all. 

What _are_ you muttering about, Hermione?!

I guess that means the easier part is over. I'm so far gone on this, I don't even know if that's a good thing or not. So then I should just plunge right in.

Oh, hell. This is going to be harder than I thought. Not that talking to you is particularly unpleasant, Hermione-

Stop laughing this instant! It isn't funny.

Well, you know how I used to blush a lot. I could turn twelve different shades of red in less than a minute, although I was less than proud of the fact at the time. But, ninety percent of the time, you were the reason I looked like an overripe tomato. I couldn't help it. I hated it at the time, but I was infatuated with you almost from the moment we met; buck teeth, bushy hair, and all.

Okay, don't hit me. Don't get mad. That, er, didn't come out right. Sorry.

Of course, it took me until that night to realize it- there's the density of my skull coming into play again. But by that time, you had already decided to go with Viktor Krum. I mean, Viktor Krum- and how was I supposed to compete with that? He's Viktor bloody Krum- sorry- and he's rich, he's famous, he's athletic, he's- well, he's not the best-looking chap, admittedly, no offense… It was like you'd started dating Harry.

You haven't, have you? Good. And yes, I know you weren't technically _dating_ Krum, and no, I _haven't_ forgotten that he's also very smart, but…

Anyway, I know you're not shallow enough to date someone for those reasons, but I couldn't help thinking it at the time. It was something between self-pity and finding something to take the blame. There's probably a word for that, but don't interrupt me now, I'm on a roll. I do have a point, and as soon as I remember what it is…

Could you stop looking at me like that, please? Thank you.

Right. So, not being a rich, famous, athletic guy, and also not getting the girl- that's you, Herm- might've made me a bit jealous. 

Hermione, you're giving me that look again.

Okay, so maybe I was more than a bit jealous. All right, if you want the absolute truth, Viktor Krum and all the other guys I've ever seen you with drive me up the wall. Especially on the night of the Yule Ball, when I figured - rather stupidly, I might add- there's my friend Hermione, isn't she pretty, let's hope no one else has noticed and see if she'll go to the ball with me- Herm, you're turning an alarming purple color, are you all right? 

Well, moving past the fact that seeing any bloke with half a brain cell around you makes me turn twelve different shades of green- green with envy, you know…

Hold that thought. I'm not done- I'm just out of fuel. Give me a minute to catch my breath. 

And slow my heart rate. 

And turn the conversation a _little_ more serious- not that serious, you don't have to look like the sky is falling.

Hermione, do you want to hear this or not? Wait, don't answer that.

So there we were, you mad at me and vice verse, although you _know_ I can't stay mad at you. And even after we made up- did we ever properly make up that time? Or did it just sort of… blow over?- there was this tension between us that wasn't there before. I remember Harry called it UST- don't know what it stands for.

I see. Harry and I will have to have a little talk.

Yes, I promise I'll be gentle. I did say 'talk,' you know. No broken noses for Harry this term. At least, not from me.

Anyway, the tension. It was like all of a sudden I couldn't talk to you anymore because I was afraid you'd take something the wrong way like you did that night. I'm not an especially poetic person, you know. 

Oops. You weren't supposed to see that, Hermione. You could have told me I left it on the desk.

What do you mean, I didn't leave it there? You read it when I fell asleep, didn't you?! _That_'s why you looked so startled when I woke up…

What did I just say? I _can't_ stay mad at you. I try, and it doesn't work. So I've stopped trying.

I'm going to have to start from the tension thing again. Thanks ever so much.

Right. Well, I couldn't talk to you, because I was afraid you'd take something the wrong way or make fun of me. Or both. And I couldn't handle that at the time, so we drifted apart over the months. Years. Whatever you want to stick in that gap. Life wasn't the same anymore.

I was miserable. I'd lived without you before, but that was before I'd admitted- even to myself- how deeply in love with you I was. Am. Whatever. My pride could get me through that, for a while at least. But after the Yule Ball, I had nothing left to be proud of. I'd offended you, which was the last thing I ever intended to do. 

I still had Harry to talk to, of course, but it wasn't the same. _We_ weren't the same. Not the two of us alone nor the three of us together. Who else would I let beat me at chess? 

Ouch. Hey, I'm trying to be deep and poetic!

Sorry.

You're not making this any easier for me, you know. 

I never said you had! I would _not_ misstate myself like that. 

So. There I was. Lost, without you; by myself, even when I _was_ with you; alienated when more people were present and when it was just the two of us. Alone, Hermione. I've never felt that alone in my entire life. I've never felt like this. I mean, when you refused to break the rules, that made me slightly mad; and Viktor made me slightly jealous, but Herm- being without you turned me twelve different shades of blue.

Oh, no. What did I say? Hermione, you're not supposed to cry- this is the part where you either tell me off or fling yourself into my arms and we ride off into the suns-

Oh. Well in that case, I love you, too. 

Ha, ha. Very funny, Harry. Herm, could you loosen up your grip on my neck for a minute? I'm trying to kiss you here…

*close curtain*


End file.
